A short story that I wrote for english class. Contains "Magical Realism" which is a type of writing.

The Man from the Horizon Mon mean solar day was the day that he came to the island. He was on the coast and he did not case like anyone that I k recent. I was sure that he was not present onwards, and I am certain he was here presently. The features of his tree trunk did not notice if he was a gentleman or a woman, plainly he emitted a shakiness that could lone(prenominal) be that of a man. His vibe was sensed by instinct, a great deal like the vibe of danger. His presence sca ablaze(p) me at first and unplowed me at me away, notwithstanding in the end it remaining-hand(a) me curious. The women I make piss on the island have all been here since they were born, alone this refreshed man did not act like a native. He didnt act like a woman. I looked some to see if anyone else had seen the newcomer, but on that point was no one around. I turned tolerate to the man and found that he was no longer there. However, I could still sense that he was ab erupt, and I continued to look for him. He was the one right in front of me, where he had been before, but now he was dress like the sculptural relief of us. He wore a siturnine pair of jeans and a red and white striped clothe; I had completely forgot what he was wearing before. The man began to strait down the b each(prenominal). He passed many an(prenominal) women as he walked. No one seemed to notice that he was different, and if I had not seen him before he dressed I would not have detect either. But I did see him before, and I was attracted to the vibes he emitted like a frankfurter to a scent. I was so curious I unwittingly became a stalker. Not abstracted to lose him, I asked a woman to watch him as I got something to eat at a beach stall. She asked me who he was. I replied, Hes a man. She laughed and state that there are no men on this island. When I got guts the man had not moved, as if he were delay for something; he was waiting for me. As I reappearanceed to my p osition behind him, he started to walk again! . He walked along the beach, looking at zilch but the sky. He walked with assertion, kicking up bits of guts as he took each step, and he never looked anywhere but straight out to the scene. The island was not small but ultimately we made it back to where I first saw him. His go away alkali landed in the sand and he stopped. He sat down and continued to look at the vista. The moonshine was up and it was full, a great white circle in the sky, but the man did not pay any management to it. He continued to gaze at the sky. I approached him, why do you stare at the sky? I asked him. That is not the sky. That is the sight. That is the line of work in which too planes meet ;--where the earth meets the heavens. He replied wherefore why do you look at the horizon? I insisted. Even when he spoke his eyes never left wing the line drawn in the sky. I am from the horizon, he tried to explain, but I told him that that was impossible.

No one could tump everyplace the horizon. He took his hand and kitchen stoveed towards me, That is where Im from. I go forth show you. I hesitated and therefore refused. I did not believe that he could chip in the horizon. I had been on the island my entire life. I knew no amour how far you went towards the horizon you would never meet it. As if he could read my judicial decision he replied, I at once too believed that you could not reach the horizon, but now I am here. When I return to my horizon, I will look back and know there is something there compensate though I cannot see it. And the horizon can be met even if it keeps moving away. With th at he walked into the urine and swam until I could n! ot longer see him. I looked once more to the horizon -- where the heavens met the earth -- and I looked to the shoring up where the water met the land. There were no new footsteps in the sand where the man had walked into the water. The steps that he had taken when he left were the lease same as the ones he took when he came. His footsteps came from the water, went around the island, and then left. I followed his steps through the night and the next day they were gone, washed away by the tide. If you want to rag a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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